For as long as anyone could remember, there had only ever been one constant whispered about in the halls-Sebastian Róswell and the girl who never stopped following him.

Sebastian Róswell was known long before he was understood: tall, sharp-featured, and distant to the point of cruelty without ever raising his voice. He was the kind of man people admired from afar, the kind no one dared approach too closely. Music was always in his ears, indifference carved into his posture, walls built so high no one ever thought to climb them.

For as long as anyone could remember, she had been chasing Sebastian like this-down school hallways, across courtyards, through years that slipped by far too quickly.

Five years of relentless devotion, of footsteps always echoing just behind his, of words offered to someone who never bothered to listen. Sebastian Róswell walked through life untouched, unreachable, his coldness as much a part of him as his name.

To him, she was an inconvenience. To her, he was everything.

The school hallway was already buzzing that morning-lockers slamming shut, shoes squeaking against polished floors, voices overlapping in careless laughter. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, stretching long shadows across the corridor. Students moved in clusters, some half-awake, others fully energized. In the middle of it all,

Sebastian walked alone, hands in his pockets, earphones firmly in place like armor. He moved calmly, decisively, as if the world around him didn't exist.

"Seb!"

Her voice rang out as she hurried after him, weaving between students, nearly tripping just to keep pace. She spotted him instantly-she always did.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, or maybe her eyes had been trained by years of habit. He didn't slow down. Didn't turn around. Didn't acknowledge her at all.

"Good morning, Seb!" she called again, undeterred, falling into step just behind him. "Did you have breakfast? If you did, what did you eat? What time did you wake up today?"

This this endless stream of words-was exactly why Sebastian always wore earphones. One opening was all she needed. She had followed him like this for years, her presence constant, unavoidable. And no matter how cold he was, she never stopped.

Sebastian Róswell was the man she had loved for far too long. Quiet. Cold. Someone who never returned her feelings, never even pretended to care. He didn't answer now either, eyes fixed ahead, expression unreadable.

Still, she stayed close, as she always did.

"You know," she continued brightly, unfazed, "yesterday I met a cat. It was orange-really cute. I didn't have food with me, so I went home to get some. But when I came back, it was gone." She laughed softly. "I was kind of sad."

Silence.

She huffed. "You're like ice cream," she muttered. "Sweet-but cold."

Sebastian stopped.

She walked straight into his back with a soft gasp. He turned around slowly, pulling his earphones out. His sharp gaze dropped to her, irritation clear. "Can you go away?" he said flatly. "Or at least shut up."

"No."

His jaw clenched. "Don't you even have any pride?" She shook her head without hesitation. "No. I gave it all away to you."

He scoffed, eyes hard. "Five years. Five years of you interfering with my life like this. Aren't you tired? Don't you realize I'll never like you?"

"Never?" she echoed calmly. "Who knows what happens in the future?"

Sebastian stared at her, fury simmering beneath the surface. Then he exhaled sharply, as if reaching a breaking point. "Fine," he said.

Her breath caught.

"I'll give you a chance," Sebastian continued, stepping closer. "Thirty days. Thirty days to make me fall in love with you."

Her eyes widened.

"If I don't feel anything after that," he went on coldly, "you leave my life. No following. No talking. No showing up everywhere I go. Deal?"

To him, it was simple-the only way to finally make her disappear. After all, he didn't allow himself to fall in love.